The light breeze caught the pale linen curtains, the dawn chorus reached its peak, the sound of giggling came through the painted floor boards from the room below. My gorgeous daughter awoke at 5.30 and started her day with some energetic bouncing, small white limbs rhythmically pulsing, head bobbing and abs contracting.

It took a few more hours till I crawled down stairs, hair rumpled, face creased and dressing gown drawn. Two cups of strong coffee and an incomplete crossword later the screaming started, the seizure began. 20mg of diazepam and 30 minutes later it came to a stop. My daughter lay spent in her little bed. Cath Kidston duvet covering and dolly cuddled, she slept.

So I went shopping for her prom dress alone into the bowels of Top Shop. What would she like I wondered. It’s a strange thing not to know, short and flirty, cool and trendy, or pretty and hippy. It catches you unawares sometimes the dreams you might have had, the life she might have led. I was surrounded by what might have been.

So I bought the hippy and pretty, floaty and flowery dress with roses for her hair.